level_act48side_08_end

(It's been a long time since I last felt hot blood flowing in my veins.)

(Not since I left the battlefield and left my homeland have I...)

His vision begins to blur from the loss of blood. Everything seems covered in a white glow, and he instinctively closes his eyes.

He hears the song of a harp, but he does not know from whence it comes.

He forces his eyes open, and sees himself in an unfamiliar space. He seems to be floating in mid-air, people passing in front of his eyes without acknowledging him.

It is as though he is in a dream.

I will never work with the Sargonians! Beat me, torture me, kill me if you want—

But you won't get one word out of me about the guerrillas!

So there are guerrillas.

...<i>Skata</i>!

Why are you so angry? I thought Minoans liked logic. That's what the stories of heroes all say.

Are you trying to butter me up? I'm not talking!

No need to be so on edge. Just wanted to have a conversation. I don't like interrogating people either.

But I'll be reprimanded if I don't spend enough time in here. Nothing I can do.

What are you doing, Mashayer? Are you so stupid you can't do something as simple as interrogate a prisoner?

I'm on it, sir!

Piece of trash. Some noble. Pah.

The prisoner watches as his interrogator jumps up from the ground nervously, while his superior leaves after casually hurling a few words of abuse.

Both seem used to such a situation. It is as though the officer cusses and abuses the guard on a daily basis.

The guard's complexion is young and pale. He is thin and mild-mannered, very different from the villagers' impression of Sargonians.

The prisoner warns himself not to let his guard down.

Sargonians are cunning. Perhaps the two of them conspired to put on an act.

Well, I have to act like I'm interrogating you.

Could you... say something? Anything.

Anything? I've got a litany of curses for you. I could go on for days.

...Let's talk about something else. Something nicer, something that can help us forget about our struggles and helplessness... tell me some Minoan heroic stories.

I know some of your legends from ancient books that I collected, but they're not easy to find in Sargon.

You already told this story a couple of days ago. I remember.

Tsk.

Anything else? Think!

(Weren't we just putting on a show for his superior? Why is he taking such careful notes?)

(Why would a Sargonian love Minoan legends so much? Is there something not right with this guy's head?)

You've only told a hundred or so. There must be more stories and legends in the land of heroes.

(Trying to provoke me? Not falling for that!)

Fragments you heard from the elders as a child are fine. It doesn't need to be complete or popular.

The kind of story that would make a little Sargonian girl dream about Minos... there must be more, right?

(<i>Skata</i>... well, if that's what he wants...)

(I'll just make one up. It's not like this <i>idiotis</i> Sargonian could tell.)

Alright. Let me tell you about Siopi, the silent hero.

It is the strangest experience the prisoner has ever had. No one would believe the story if he told it. He decided to take it with him to his grave—

If he ever gets out of here.

Bloody bother. Finally got him off my back for the day.

I didn't know I was so good at making up stories. I should become a bard if I ever get out.

If I ever get out...

Is that a crack in the door?

Did that <i>ilithios</i> forget to lock the door?

It has been a long time since he last saw the stars. It almost feels like he is dreaming as he breathes the air of freedom again.

Is he out? Is he free? Just like this?

Useless trash! You've been in that Minoan's cell every single day, and you haven't gotten one scrap of intel about the guerrillas?

S-Sorry, sir. I've been taking records, but he contradicts himself every day. I... I'm afraid nothing he says can be trusted.

I knew you couldn't get anything done! Incompetent fool!

I'll interrogate him tomorrow while you watch and learn how things are done in the lord ameer's army!

Y-Yes, sir...

The fugitive hears the guard and his superior talking in the distance. He hastens his movement through the bushes.

The movement seems to have drawn the attention of the Sargonians.

How did the prisoner get out?!

After him, Mashayer, you worthless shit! You are DEAD, if you don't catch him!

Hearing the sound made by the skinny guard's ill-fitting armor sets the fugitive's heart at ease.

He knows a single Sargonian could never catch him, on this Minoan land.

He takes one final look back as he escapes the Sargonian camp.

The fugitive sees the frail guard stumble and fall. The guard's luxurious armor, probably an heirloom, weighs him down so much that he struggles to get himself off the ground.

Or perhaps... he just wanted an excuse to not get up?

Did he really forget to lock the door, or did he finally find an opportunity to leave a crack?

The prisoner does not know.

The only thing that the prisoner knows is that he will never forget the time he spent at the Sargonian camp, and the ridiculous-looking Sargonian.

(What... is this?)

It's my father.

Xanthos turns around in surprise, and sees the Sargonian woman, standing in the same vision as he.

There is surprise on her face, yes, but also nostalgia and poignance.

I know he came to Minos in the lord ameer's army, but was sent back to Sargon for his incompetence. He would have received a heavier punishment, but what little glory the House of Mashayer had left protected him one last time.

He never really... achieved anything, and it wasn't a surprise that he would mess up after he was conscripted. He didn't like to talk about his time in Minos, and I never asked...

I didn't know this was where those stories of the Minoan heroes he told me came from.

He's very different from my image of a Sargonian.

Yes. He was always weak and soft, never talking back even when insulted to his face... I always wondered why he loved heroic stories so much, when he was the furthest thing from a hero.

No wonder... no wonder he told me the story of Siopi the silent hero so many times, the hero who kept a secret for thirty years...

He planted the seed of heroes in your heart.

I have high hopes for you, Medjehtiqedti Nasutu Mashayer.

It is an honor.

Do you understand why I appointed someone like you to lead the mission, someone so young and inexperienced?

You must have your reasons.

You're much smarter than your father was.

The House of Mashayer was a noble house with a rich tradition, and I was on good terms with your elders.

It pained me to see the family fall on hard times under your father, who was frail and idle.

I arranged a cushy post for him in the lord ameer's army in Minos, safely away from the frontlines, and he almost got himself into a court-martial.

When Minos came up again after all these years, you were the first person I thought of.

Young Medjehtiqedti is much sharper than her father, I thought. I'm sure she will have no trouble bringing a harp to Minos and bringing back a few blueprints that belonged to Sargon to begin with.

You'll do a fine job and do your family proud, won't you?

Yes, exalted padishah! I loved the legends of Minos, and I've wanted to see true heroism with my own eyes since I was little. I'll make sure the Minoan mission goes perfectly!

The padishah said a bunch of flowery words to me before I left, but I never understood why he made me the head of this mission.

I guess it's because it's easy to get rid of me, if something goes wrong.

And I had no idea that those 'blueprints' contained such detailed records.

Frankly, I don't really care about doing the Mashayer name proud.

I came because I wanted to see this land that I've always been fascinated by with my own eyes, to chase the legends that I've only heard about...

Or perhaps, I wanted to find some answers about my father...

What is this land of heroes that father talked about really like, and what is the heroic spirit really like? I wanted to learn, to find out. That's why I came to Minos.

Have you found the answer?

Yes. What about you?

I...

I was once like you, Xanthos.

Pallas?! You too...

I've seen with my own eyes how our people died shielding their comrades from the Sargonians, and heard the screaming of the wounded being amputated in village huts.

Hate flowed in your heart and mine, in the hearts of every Minoan.

Even now... in my heart...

I know.

But have you ever stopped to think why we love to drink?

Besides the sweet fragrance of wine and the joy of harvest that it represents, the inspiration and joy that it brings us...

Besides all that...

It's also because it makes us forget, if only for a while.

Too many things trouble us and make us hurt, but we can't forget them completely, because to do so would be a betrayal, so we drown ourselves in drink, seeking a moment's forgetfulness.

But then... I had to leave Minos.

You're Pallas, aren't you? The medics told me you often drink here.

Yes, I am... what is it?

You're Minoan, right? You've been in the Lachedamon competitions? Do you know Dikaiopolis, the Blood Knight? Did you ever fight him?

No... but I've heard of him. A Minoan Infected who participates in the Kazimierz Majors, I think?

Well, actually, the 'competitions' in those two places are not quite the same thing...

But they're both clashes of physical ability and skill, aren't they?

Mm... well... uh...

I knew it! The principles of strength are the same everywhere! The Blood Knight must be strong because of his Minoan upbringing!

I wanted to meet the Blood Knight, but he's retired now.

Still, it's an honor to meet another Minoan master! Can I have your autograph? Anywhere's fine—how about my t-shirt?

...(Quietly signs)

Thank you so much!

So... do Minoans have a special way of training?

I heard you love drinking. Is this part of your training? Accelerating blood circulation with alcohol and increasing explosiveness?

The medics also say you can fall asleep anywhere! This must be a way to save energy! You only fully utilize your physical ability when necessary!

I see! This is why the Blood Knight was so explosive!

Er... these are just my personal habits. I don't know how the Blood Knight trains, but I doubt...

I get it, I get it, just fantasizing about things. Did I get carried away? I hope I didn't cause any offense.

...It's alright. You really love Dikaiopolis, don't you?

Yeah! I lost all hope after learning that I have Oripathy, but the Blood Knight gave me the will to live again.

I watched recordings of his bouts so many times! I've even started training myself, hoping to join an Infected Knightclub someday.

He was the one who blazed the trail for the Infected in Kazimierzian knightsports, paving the way for the Radiant Knight's return to the tournaments!

His bout with the Radiant Knight was one for the ages! I was there for it, and I cried when they took the podium together.

I wasn't sure why I cried. Maybe it's because I saw a flicker of hope for the future.

I guess he's the kind of hero the Minoans talk about!

He's Infected. According to conventional Minoan wisdom...

Do Infected heroes have some kind of special title in Minos?

No... But he's a hero, yes. No one can deny it.

Traditions don't stay unchanged forever, Xanthos.

The stories of the heroes defined and shaped who we are. Yet, because heroes arise from among us, we in turn possess the power to define them and to reshape what it means to be a hero.

I learned that after I left Minos.

Our goddess of victory is back!

I heard you destroyed another Sargon cavalry unit that tried to sneak across the border?

I told you not to call me that when we're in the village... it's embarrassing.

It was the title that we gave to Pallas...

Whoever leads us to victory is our goddess of victory. That's what Pallas said when she left—

'You can use this overblown title however you want, if it scares the Sargonians.'

As long as we still have our 'Goddess of Victory', you'll keep the Sargonians away.

Yeah... although Sargonian raiders still come every now and then, since she signed that 'Non-Aggression Pact' with Sargon's border tribes on behalf of the villages in the area...

The raids have been getting fewer and fewer after we won a few victories. It's all thanks to the reputation of the 'Goddess of Victory'.

Besides, inheriting Pallas's title makes me feel like I can't give up, which helps me pull through in tough battles.

It doesn't just scare our enemies; it also inspires our own.

Yeah, that's what heroes are for.

The village of Akroti... brings back so many memories.

It's very much like my homeland.

All the villages of Minos are alike. The same soil nurtured us.

But it's not just because of the same soil that we're a single nation. It's because we know the same stories.

Only we, upon seeing the olive branch, remember how the hero Pheidippides ran from Athenius to spread the news of our victory over the Sargonians to the other cities.

He was carrying the olive branch of Athenius, and so it became the symbol of victory and hope to us.

This is what truly belongs to us, something that outlanders and invaders cannot take away.

As long as we keep living, we'll carry on these stories, and change the traditions so that the legends of Minos's heroes may continue, that the spirit of Minos may continue.

Minos is wherever we are.

It is a strange scene that unfolds before the eyes of the citizens of Athenius and the guests from Sargon and other city-states.

It is an exhilarating battle. But when the oar-wielding Minoan warrior's blood falls upon the strings of the harp in the hands of Kereseira's statue—

The ancient harp begins to make a sound, like an old machine starting up after a long slumber, its gears slowly beginning to turn.

As the harp begins to sing, the trio on the stage slows down, entering a trance-like state, sometimes angry, sometimes sad, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping.

When the Minoan challenger is finally overcome by exhaustion and slumps down by the statue's pedestal, the other two on stage finally break out of their trance.

They look around themselves in confusion before running towards the challenger, reaching out to him to try to help him up, but getting no response from him.

The shouting, the cheering, and the angry yelling have all ceased. Those present begin to realize that they have witnessed a miracle.

The harp that stopped singing after the Sargonians invaded has returned to where it belonged, and declared—

The tradition continues, and a new chapter is written in the stories of the heroes.

The harp's music echoes in the sky above the square.

Xanthos looks up.

The autumn sun is painfully bright, but for some reason it seems to bring back dim memories, back to the day that he said goodbye to Ithakos.

Do you believe that the guerrillas can defeat the Sargonians?

Even though we've been losing for a century?

(Nods)

I haven't received any divine revelations, and I can't tell the future. I can't even leave with you.

But I will promise what I can.

I'll protect our village, our houses, our farms and flowerbeds. Perhaps we can go to Athenius, where you came from, once you're victorious.

I'll still be a ferryman, ferrying you to your workplace at the temple on the other side of the city as the sun shines upon the Delphi Canal... I've been imagining the scene ever since you described it to me.

...Are you listening, Ithakos?

Minos is in for a cold winter this year, brother.

Yes. But the spring will be all the warmer for it.

He finally remembers what he said to Ithakos.

And he remembers the warm smile on Ithakos's face at the answer.

The pain and anger of losing a dear friend had clouded his memory and caused him to forget what was most important.

But things will get better, when spring comes and war is over, when life gets back on track.

The wounds of the earth will heal, and the snowmelt from the peaks of Heria will continue to flow, bringing flowers and reeds home.